Perfect
by Dutchie15
Summary: All I wanted to do was watch. Just stand there and stare at her. It sounds pathetic I know that, but if watching her made me pathetic, then so be it. As long as I could keep on watching. [CaRWash]


_Title: Perfect. (Decent, perfect...I like short titles don't I?)  
Author: Me, duh, you think I'd post this if it wasn't mine?  
Disclaimer: I've kidnapped them and intent to play with them a little before the new season starts. Don't worry, they'll appear in it, and you won't even notice they've been gone.  
Summary: I didn't need to talk to her. I just…wanted to talk to her. But somehow, as I was looking at her, walking down that beach, hair waving in the wind, dress falling lightly around every curve of her body, I couldn't walk up and talk to her. All I wanted to do was watch. Just stand there and stare at her. It sounds pathetic; I know that, but if watching her made me pathetic, then so be it. As long as I could keep on watching. [CaRWash  
A/N: is being a bitch to me. It erases parts of my story as I edit, it won't let me have [ in my summary, or ". Grr._

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**In the moonlight, your face it glows like a thousand diamonds,  
I suppose. And your hair falls like the ocean breeze.  
- Secondhand Serenade ; Broken**

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**Who would not fall in love with that look in her eyes, or that smile?  
****She's an angel  
****Who would not feel the bliss after one single kiss from her lips?  
****She's an angel  
****- Di-rect ; Angel**

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She…she always looked perfect. She could wear jeans, like every other person, but they looked better on her than on anyone. She could wear things that looked absolutely hideous on other people, but simply fantastic on her. She could wear all black, and still look like the brightest star in the night sky. She could combine colors that normally made people turn away in disgust, but when she wore it, they would stare at her, for all the right reasons. She simply couldn't look ugly, never. 

But apparently she **could** look even more beautiful than she normally did. She seldomly wore a dress. It just didn't go with the line of duty, and I never really saw her outside of work, except when we went for our weekly after-shift drink. But she had never worn a dress to those. Not once. It's a shame though, because when I saw her, in that light blue summer dress, the edges swaying in the wind, I swear my heart stopped beating for a second.

She was bare-feet. Her toes jiggled in the sand as she walked alongside the sea, not minding that her feet got washed over by waves from time to time. I saw her shoes in her hand, those high-heeled white ones that I loved on her. They made her taller, which was why she wore them often, but I liked them just because they made her look elegant.

And her hair…she had it loose. In the years I've worked with her, I hardly ever saw her hair loose. It was in a ponytail, most of the time, easy and useful. Sometimes it was in a plait. I had a little game to pull it gently whenever she did that. She would stare at me, pretending to be mad, but she couldn't stop her smile from coming out. She liked it. I know she did.

I could see she was deep in thought, and she hadn't seen me yet. She had no idea that someone was watching her every move, admiring her every move. Because I admire her, so much. She was my deity, the person I looked up to. I lived my life telling people she'd made me who I was, I learned everything I know from her. Not just work related. She taught me things about life, things only she knew. And she shared them with me. I never told anyone else, it was our secret. Step by step we figured life out, together.

But love…love was a thing neither of us could ever figure out. So much bad luck, so many heartbreaks. We would sit together and talk about our latest mistake. Still, we didn't spend a lot of time together, really. We worked together, but we didn't discuss our love lives while analyzing DNA or matching fibers. Of course we didn't. We came together once a week, in a little bar close to my place. We went there because we were certain no one we knew would be there too. We had our privacy there. We sat at the table in the back. Always. If it was taken, we'd wait outside till it wasn't.

It had started that one day…sex offender's case…the entire lab thought we had a huge fight. It was just a quarrel really, a disagreement. It was nothing. We laughed about it when we solved the case. And we talked. She said a killer was a killer, no matter what circumstances. I asked her if she really meant that. Personally she didn't, but professionally she did. I should ask her again in an hour, over a beer. And I did. She was in the locker room, getting ready to leave, and I asked her out. Not really on a date. It wasn't a date. I just wanted to know her point of view on the matter. I know I would learn from it. So I asked her. And she said yes.

I suggested the bar, and she agreed. And we talked. About work, at first. It was our comfort zone. Both of us could discuss it without getting too personal. I didn't mind all that much. At least I was talking to her, and just to her. I had fun, although I'm not sure if she would classify it as 'fun'. I enjoyed it. I think she appreciated it as well. She didn't really have a place to pour her heart out. Not that she would if she had such a place. She was very private.

When we split up, she said that we should do it again sometime. I suggested I'd take her home, but she insisted on walking on her own. I didn't let her go. I couldn't let her go. I would never forgive myself if something happened while she was walking home. After all, I had suggested a place so far from her home. I said I'd walk with her then. She insured me it wasn't necessary. I said I agreed, but I would anyway. She knew it was a lost deal to argue with me, so she let me walk her home. I wonder, when I said goodbye to her and walked away, I wonder if she worried about me as well. After all, I had to walk the entire way back. But I think she trusted I would be okay. I think she trusted me.

It took us two weeks to go a second time. It had been quite a rough case, a baby was smothered. She took it hard, but tried to hide it. It's funny that when she tries with everything in her power to hide something, everyone notices it. And I did notice it. So, in lack of something better to say, I told her I was going for a drink, and I didn't feel like going alone. I remember the look in her eyes. She was thankful. At least it looked like she was. So we went. We talked about work, again, but this time we went deeper. We talked about our feelings, our opinions about the work.

And then we started going more regularly. We ended up going once a week. Mostly on Fridays, unless we had a reason to go on another day. It took a long while to start talking about our feelings outside of work though. I believe it started that day when I froze up in a shootout. We continued the talk we'd had in the locker room. I think since that time we just talked openly about things that were bothering us, work related or not. I started telling her about my love life first. Not to taunt her, not at all, just because I needed advice, and I know she could give me it. She was the one that told me Natalia was nothing for me, and I was the one that told her the same thing for Jake. She didn't listen to me though. So I was the one to hold her together after he ran off.

It wasn't Friday that day. It was Wednesday. I don't know why I followed her; it wasn't like we'd agreed to go do something. After all, it wasn't Friday. The case hadn't been particularly special either. It wasn't something we couldn't deal with. I didn't need to talk to her. I just…wanted to talk to her. But somehow, as I was looking at her, walking down that beach, hair waving in the wind, dress falling lightly around every curve of her body, I couldn't walk up and talk to her. All I wanted to do was watch. Just stand there and stare at her. It sounds pathetic; I know that, but if watching her made me pathetic, then so be it. As long as I could keep on watching.

And I did. I watched her near dance in the sand. She looked genuinely happy there, it seemed like the world around her didn't matter to her for a moment. Which was odd, because the world around her was the most important thing in her life. Her family, her friends… I considered myself her friend. I considered her my best friend. She was the one I talked to, the one I trusted with my secrets. I trusted her with my life. I would lay my heart in her hands if I had to. Because I know she would never let me down. Whatever she would do, would be my best option. Even if she would shatter my heart into pieces, I was convinced that was the right thing to do. I wouldn't say I worshipped her, but I definitely think that she was my first real love. And I think it showed.

For a moment I didn't pay attention, and when I looked again, she was gone. My heart raced. Where was she? Did she leave while I didn't notice? No, that was impossible. Her car was behind me, and I surely would've noticed if she passed by me. Then I saw her. She'd sat down in the sand, arms around her knees, her shoes still dangling from her hands. And even though I was content with looking at her, something told me I should go and talk to her. I didn't really mind, because if there was one thing I loved more than her appearance, it was her soothing southern voice. I'm not sure if every southern person has it, or even every southern woman. All I'm sure of is that whenever she spoke, I felt myself relaxing. Except of course when she was yelling at me, but when she was yelling at me, she used her 'Miami' voice. When she talked to me in private she used her 'Louisiana' voice. Not a difficult question which one I liked more.

So, with my mind set on talking to her, although I had no idea what about, I stepped onto the sand. Within seconds my shoes were filled with sand, so I followed her example and took them off. One of the advantages of sand was that she didn't hear me coming. She didn't realize I was there until I was practically sitting down next to her. She didn't jump, or look at me, or say anything at all. She just kept on sitting, kept on staring to the ocean. Like she was in some kind of a trance. I sat down next to her and followed her stare for a while. And eventually, after all the silence, she spoke up.

"It's not Friday."

I smiled. I kind of figured that one out for myself, but I wasn't going to say that to her. After all, she was merely stating the obvious, which was always a good way to start a conversation.

"Does it need to be Friday for me to talk to you?"  
"Not specifically. But we don't normally meet up after work on Wednesday."  
"Technically, we didn't meet up. You were here and…well, I am here too."  
"So…is there a reason why you're here?"

She finally tore her look away from the ocean and looked at me. Yes, there was something I liked more than her appearance and her voice. Those mysterious, glimmering deep green eyes… Yes they're part of her appearance, but still…they were special. I'd never seen anyone with eyes quite like hers. I don't know what her parents had done to God, but damn did he repay them good.

"Do I need a reason to be here?"  
"No. But there must be a reason why you spend half an hour just looking at your colleague walking on the beach."

My eyes must've widened in confusion. How did she know…? But then again it didn't really surprise me. Of course she knew. She knew those sorts of things. Yet she hadn't made me aware of her knowledge. It probably was part of her little plan. Whatever that plan was.

"It depends. Do **you** have a reason to be here?"  
"Yes I do. I love the beach. Makes me feel free. You know that."  
"I meant whether you have a reason to be here, **today.**"  
"Ah…then say what you mean."

She could tease like the best, I knew that. But I also knew that when she teased, she usually had something to hide. Her own feelings. When she teased me, she tried to change the topic, steer it away from where it was heading, get me to respond to her teasing and forget what I was asking before. It has worked on me a couple of times, but I wasn't gonna let it work now.

"Alright then. I mean: 'do you have a reason to be here, on the beach, today?'".  
"Yes I do. I thought it would be good to come here and unwind." She said, tucking a strain of hair behind her ear.  
"Unwind? It wasn't that hard of a case today, was it?"  
"Some people actually have a life outside of work Ryan, believe it or not."

I knew she hadn't meant to attack me like that. But I didn't take her first hint that she didn't want to talk about it, and well, she never much liked that in me.

"Family trouble?" I asked, carefully choosing my next steps.  
"No, for once, everything in my family is fine."  
"Oh, well, that's good then, isn't it?" I risked a grin.  
"Yeah," she smiled back, "that is good."  
"So…no work trouble, no family trouble…love life trouble it is then, huh?"  
"It could be trouble with a friend."  
"Ah, but if it was trouble with a friend, you would've denied my assumption that it is about your love life."

She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, letting out an amused sigh. I liked it when she did that, because that meant she wasn't mad at me, even though I might have done something to cause that reaction.

"Point taken. Yes, it's love life trouble. Sort of."  
"So…even though it's not Friday," he emphasized, "do you wanna talk about it?"  
"Uhm…I'm not sure."  
"You know you can, right? I'll listen."

She suddenly stood up and I wondered whether I'd done something wrong, said something wrong. But, to my ears, what I'd just said to her was a brilliant thing to say. Was my definition of brilliant so different from hers?

"What are you doing?"  
"Listen, Ryan…No, don't stand up. Just listen. You know how my love life has been. I've told you all about it; you've been there through some of it. I'm not sure…I don't want to get hurt again."  
"Get hurt again? Wait…is there someone…?"

She slowly started to walk away from me. Not far, but still… Why was she walking away from me? I didn't want her to walk away from me; I wanted her to walk **towards **me, sit back down next to me, close to me, perhaps lean against me. Anything but walking away from me.

"There is. It's hard to explain…"  
"Say, if you don't want me to stand up, you'll have to talk a little louder, especially seeing you're walking more and more away from me."  
"It's complicated," She indeed talked louder now, "I don't know how to tell you this…"  
"Well…I'd say give it a go, because…uh…walking away isn't gonna get the wanted effect."  
"I know, I know, I'm looking for words, okay? I…"

I stood up now. I didn't mind that she had told me to stay seated; she was too busy thinking of a way to tell me whatever it was she wanted to tell me to notice. That, plus this way I could try to get a little closer to her. She kept her distance from me though.

"Ryan…I think I'm falling in love with you." She said. Not very loud, but quite loud enough for me to hear. I took a few steps towards her.

"Wh…what did you say?"

"I said," she started, turning towards me now, "I think I'm in love with you."

I closed the distance between us and asked her, again: "What?"

She looked at her feet shortly before taking a deep breath in and looking into my eyes.

"I'm in love with you."

She said it without hesitation, without doubt, and without any sign of dishonesty. I gathered her into my arms and spun her around. She wrapped her arms around my neck and squealed, a high, happy sound in her southern accent. Her 'Louisiana' voice.

"Don't you ever worry about me hurting you. I could never hurt you because I love you too, Calleigh. I love you too." I said as I'd put her down again.

She smiled at me and I saw her eyes watering. I let one hand leave her waist, while the other one still had a firm hold on her, and wiped the bottom of her eyes. She'd never been the one to cry and I didn't want that to change for me.

"I kind of already heard you the first time, by the way."

She chuckled through her tears. I kept my hand on her cheek as I leaned in and her eyes fluttered close. Her arms tightened around my neck and pulled me closer. Our lips touched. For a second I thought I should pull back, I shouldn't force her to do this, but her hand was tangled in my hair, and she didn't seem to object in any way, so I gave into temptation and kissed her. And she kissed me back. I can't remember ever being so happy. I could go on kissing her for an eternity and never, ever get tired of it.

Somewhere I hoped that no other colleagues had thought of going to the beach tonight, but on the other hand, I didn't mind at all. Because if they had, they could see us, see how happy I was, see how much I love her. Because I did. I do.

I never really believed that we couldn't be together. And in the end, I guess I'm glad I didn't.

"Ryan? What are you doing outside?"  
"Just thinking, Cal. Just thinking."  
"Well how about you come back inside and think there, with me?"

I turn around and see her standing there, looking at me with those beautiful eyes. I lean against the balcony railing as she steps closer to me, her hands on my chest.

"It's our honeymoon for a reason, you know." She says.  
"I know that, love. It's our honeymoon for the simple reason that you're my wife now. Now and for the rest of our lives."  
"Exactly." She smiles at me and her hands slide over my arms until she grabs my hands, her wedding ring shining in the moonlight.

"Now come. It's late."

I take one last look over my shoulder, at the beautiful view from our balcony, but I turn back rather quick. To me, the best view is, and will always be her. Because she…she always looks perfect.

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_A/N: AWW SO CUTE! There I said it. Now leave me a review._


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